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The Pursuit
June 1013 (As told by Calicana Fireborn...) The third day of the march to Lindala brought with it a sweltering Sun and no clouds to shield us from it. Many of the soldiers were weak from the heat but too proud to show it. A few of the weaker men who began to tire from the constant walk began to beg for a break. I was quite happy up on my horse. He was meant for Aurilus, but the resilient lad refused the ride claiming the march would bring strength. I liked to imagine my new friend as a gift from an admirer. If only I had been well-received at home, my admirers would be plenty. We stopped by a stream that was barely dribbling down its path as to allow the horses a well-deserved break. Most of the soldiers, however, were put to work, gathering more firewood and taking stock of what we had. I could hear some of them mumbling about food, saying their rations had been getting smaller as the days went on. A man by the name of Shamus Stormcrow approached me, a young soldier tagging along right behind him. “I have a message for Calicana.” spoke the man in a poorly stitched, crimson hood. “It’s Lady to you.” I retorted. “Well, Lady,” His sass was marvelous, “you have been tasked with providing food for the group. This is your partner.” He turned quickly, leaving the young soldier alone with me. He was what we would call sword fodder, someone who was very replaceable and destined for death on the field. He had weak arms and large feet. Neither would make for a good hunter, as he wouldn’t be able to use a bow and would have quite a turbulent walk. All in all, my “partner” was quite pathetic, and I wasn’t going to allow someone that awkward to impinge on the task at hand. “Excuse me,” I hooted, hoping to catch Shamus before he was out of range. He turned and gave me one of those looks. “I will choose my own hunting partner.” “Everyone else seems to be occupied, so I’m not sure who you’re intending to pick up.” said Shamus. I looked around in a frenzy, desperate for anyone other than this buffoon. I noticed Aurilus feeding one of our few apples to a horse. “Aurilus! I pick Aurilus.” I said, victorious in our petty fight. “Fine.” Shamus stomped off, displeased. Aurilis, having recognized his name amongst the constant clamor, approached me with the same blank face as always. “Has something come up that concerns me?” He asked. “Yes, we are going hunting.” ''' That evening we met by the dawn of the wood. He greeted me with a look of willingness but no words. Best not to scare the prey. He held his long bow in one hand, gripping tight an arrow in the other. His remaining arrows laid in his quiver strapped to his back, with a shining dagger fastened to his belt. There was a touch of comfort in his routinely barren face which seemed to only appear amidst the silence. He had chosen a muddy green shirt matching the landscape. A fine hunter he seemed. He fit well between the sleeping trees. We started in separate trees, both searching for game among the brush. When one of us spotted a doe, we would both take aim. He would shoot first, my arrow only leaving the string if he had missed. He never did. It didn’t take long before we had pegged an average sized doe and, out of mercy, her young fawn. We sat at a lowly river to skin our prizes, running strips of meat through the water to wash off the dirt from our blades. Our clothing became stained with blood from the kill. We threw much of the bowels into the river, attracting several small fish who dined on the meal. Ample time had passed in silence for the presence of any voice to come with some awkwardness. I cleared my throat and spoke softly, mimicking the tone of our evening. “Do you ever think about your mother?” I was afraid of impinging on his anonymity, but felt as though our day together had forged a connection. He didn’t speak. He didn’t even look up. “Because I miss my mother. I think about her quite often, in fact. Much of what I do is for her.” Maybe if I focused on myself he’d feel more secure. He still didn’t react, his bloody fingers continuing the monotonous task. “I’m sorry.” He stopped what he was doing and looked up at the stream, “It’s fine.” and hastily went back to his work. The silence fell for a second time. “Well…” It took some gull for me to begin again. “What about your father?” There was a slight cringe in me, but I figured maybe a male would be more likely to take fondly to their father. “I never knew my father.” he spoke with his same humdrum tone. “So you’re one of the lucky ones.” I joked. He didn’t laugh. He actually seemed rather crotchety about the comment. An awkward lull came about once more. “I’m unfair where fathers are concerned. Mine was not faultless.” I picked up a leg of the fawn and started cutting at the skin. “He was insolent. The public would insist his brutality was an act of affection. Dismally, I was youthful and welcomed that as truth.” I could glimpse a trace of empathy budding in his eyes. “His abuse brought him his own demise.” “What happened?” his voice heightened in interest. “I took a blade to him.” I spoke with a grunt as my dagger struggled through a rough patch of fat. “If you do not mind, I’d like to inquire about your belief. Do you have faith in The Seven?” “You are asking if I have faith in the fabricated. You’d be better off asking if I had faith in Sinthaster to remain sober for more than two moons.” He smirked to himself. “Well, if you don’t have faith then from who do you request protection?” “Only my arrow.” he said, grabbing one of his arrow tips and thumbing its smooth edge in comfort. “I have faith in my arrow and my arm.” He paused, considering carefully his next words. “I too have known abuse. I did not wait for a divine force to free me from it.” Bearing part of himself seemed to free him. His posture loosened. His handiwork slowed. “I too do not lay complete confidence in the Gods, although I have experienced some sort of divine intervention.” He almost snorted at my confession, as expected. “I take it you think me a fool for this?” “No. I take you to be more logical than many. It just came as a surprise to hear you say something of that sort.” “I myself would not believe it if I did not experience it. Ruukina has come to me on multiple occasions, forcing herself into my form. It is both liberating and gruesome, but she often comes in times of peril. I would be dead if not for her.” I looked up, waiting for a reaction. He looked deep in thought, considering. “I trust that your experiences are valid. I just hope they are not a result of heavy drinking or misuse of narcotics. “I’ve never been one to drink or abuse, but I see your concern.” “My concern or not, do not let whatever has captivated you infest you.” He hardened again, handling his knife with more attention, expelling all comfort from his body. I could tell this meant no more chatter. Our work was plentiful and the Sun was not far from setting. We arrived back at camp well into nightfall. It was clear to me that Aurilis would become a silent friend. We would not speak of each other’s woes but simply allow them to found our relation. We were mutual. Category:Calicana Fireborn Category:Character lore